


The Raven

by warmheartseek



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2019 [6]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Comfort No Hurt, Day 6: Fairy Tale, Hopeless Romantic Edward Nygma, M/M, Nygmobblepot Week 2019, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 12:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18282593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmheartseek/pseuds/warmheartseek
Summary: are we tired of me yet? for the fairy tale day I had almost no ideas and then out of nowhere the idea to create a mashup of edgar allen poe's The Raven and brothers grimm The Raven and they weirdly worked quite well together though I don't think mr. allen poe would have run off into the woods with his ravenenjoy! <3





	1. Chapter 1

Edward sat in his silent study with nothing but the furious scratch of a quill for company. Working into the wee hours of the night had become tiresome clockwork. Round and round the hands went until the only thing that told him it was time to rest was the glaring sun or eyes that stung.

 

It was such a night when Edward heard the tap, tap, tap on his study door. Convinced it was a trick of his tired mind, he paid it no attention and simply went back to his papers. But soon enough, the sound echoed through the room again. 

 

_ Tap, tap, tap _ .

 

Edward was certain he couldn’t be expecting visitors, very few people in his town ventured near him if it wasn’t to mock or jeer. A small tremor of fear resonated through his chest, images of rogue robbers come to do him harm, steal the few items of value in his possession. 

 

_ Tap, tap, tap _ . 

 

But surely a criminal worth his salt wouldn’t give himself away with an announcement. Edward swallowed his fear like a bitter pill and stood to approach the door, his shaking fingers hesitated on the latch. He stood for a heart racing few moments before flicking the latch up and pushing the heavy door open, braced for attack. But there was nothing there, only the dark expanse of a cold night and the unending forest beyond. Ever puzzled, Edward simply shut the door tight, checked the latch was down, and resigned himself to his desk. Before he could get another few words scratched out-- 

 

_ Tap, tap, tap. _

 

Thoroughly irate at the intrusion, Edward stood and marched back to the door, more fury in his approach than before. He shoved it open, hearing a crack against the wall of his house. Upon observing the vast darkness outside his home, Edward noticed nothing but a quiet raven resting on a dimmed lantern. He chastised himself for feeling so frightened. 

 

“Of course, It must have been a raven tapping at my study door. Just a raven and nothing more.” 

 

_ “Nothingmore,” _ the raven echoed back. 

 

Edward rubbed at his eyes behind his glasses, glad the ridiculous situation provided a bit more energy for the long night ahead. Settled at his desk again, Edward got back to work on his notes before long, covering every inch of his papers with ink in a struggle to connect such wild thoughts. 

 

_ Tap, tap, tap. _

 

“ _ Nothingmore.”  _

 

Edward grimaced, nearly bunching his hard work between his fists when he heard the rapping yet again. Teeth bared, he searched for an object that might be useful in shooing away avian pests. Nothing but an old fire poker. Edward was not one for guns, too loud, too impractical, too likely that an intruder would use it on him first. When Edward threw the study door open, the raven had moved to a window sill, looking straight at Edward with black and beady eyes. 

 

“What brings you to my study door, curious bird?” 

 

Edward was glad for the cover of night, sure he would be thrown in the local asylum if he was seen trying to talk to a bird on his windowsill. It was likely Arkham already had a uniform with his name on it, just waiting for the warm body to fill it. 

 

“ _ Nothingmore. _ ” 

 

His own words echoed back to him. Edward puzzled more and set his makeshift weapon at his feet to approach the bird. 

 

“Ravens are fascinating creatures, surely the intelligence to surpass many human folk. If only--if only you spoke, to tell me what sent you rapping on my study door.” 

 

The raven’s feathers fluttered, his proud wings bringing him to rest in a tree at the edge of the woods. Edward felt himself compelled to follow, leaving the only defence he had in the dirt behind him. On and on the raven hopped between branches, seeming to wait for assurance that Edward was indeed still following. The night air was thin and cold, Edward left the house with little more than a waistcoat and thin shoes for warmth but curiosity led him deeper and deeper into thickets of forest with the raven staying his steady guide. Dawn was beginning to break over the horizon, he was unsure how long he’d been moving or where the raven had brought him. Edward looked up in the hazy gray of the morning, the raven perched on a fallen tree in front of him. 

 

“Oh dear,” his breath turned to mist, “I think we’ve gone a bit farther than I intended. Serves me right for letting a silly bird guide me. Maybe the townspeople are right to want me thrown in Arkham.” 

 

“Who are you calling, ‘silly bird _ ’ _ ?”

 

Edward startled, throwing himself back into a patch of damp moss. 

 

“Wh--Who said that?” 

 

He looked around frantically, hoping the answer might appear in front of him. 

 

“I’ll give you a hint.  _ Nothingmore. _ ” 

 

The echo was the same he’d heard at his study door, that rasped and scratching echo of Edward’s words. 

 

“You! But--you’re only a raven, your species’ capacity for intelligence is very impressive, but how in the world--you are a  _ raven.  _ Nothingm--”

 

“Let me guess. Nothingmore?” 

 

Edward thought his head might spin right off his shoulders and into the canopy of leaves above. He scrambled farther back, grabbing wet leaves and dirt between his fingers. The raven simply flew to a closer perch, settling near Edward’s shoulder. 

 

“If you’d stop trying to crawl away like some helpless newborn babe, I might be able to answer your questions.” 

 

Edward stilled, more in shock than obedience. He could only manage a short nod, knees tucked up to his chin. 

 

“Believe me, I’m aware of how impossible this looks,” the raven said, “but I assure you sir, I am much more than a mere blackbird.” 

 

Edward stifled an incredulous laugh, “No kidding.” 

The raven’s eyes seemed to narrow, his expression read more human than sparrow. Edward wanted to call it a trick of the light, but that could only explain so much. 

 

“I was a nobleman, once. My family fortune kept me comfortable until I was grown enough to venture on my own. My father warned me about the neighboring gangs and mischief makers, but I never listened.” 

 

Edward unraveled his limbs, hung on every word the raven spoke. 

 

“I made the wrong person angry. Tell me, how much do you know about Mistress Mooney?” 

 

Edward sucked in a sharp breath. Everyone within a hundred miles of Gotham knew about the kingdom’s kingpin. A most dangerous and ruthless boss, a woman with King Falcone wrapped tight around her finger. 

 

“I know the rumors--the stories--but I’ve never seen her myself,” Edward’s voice wavered. 

 

“Few who have manage to survive, I suppose I should consider myself lucky.” 

 

The raven laughed a sad and lonely laugh, his wings slumped down at his sides. Edward could feel a growing sympathy in his chest for the poor creature, such tragedy in expressive eyes. 

 

Edward reached a hand out, unsure what he meant to do until he nudged the raven’s feet with his finger. He brought the bird close to softly stroke silken feathers. 

 

“Is there nothing you can do to reverse what Mistress Mooney did to you?” 

 

The raven sighed, still appreciating the gentle hands over his tired wings. 

 

“There is a way, I’m afraid it’s somewhat-- _ puzzling _ .” 

 

“You don’t say?” Edward’s smile curled into his cheeks, “I happen to be quite the authority on puzzles, dear raven.” 

 

The raven shifted uneasily on Edward’s hand. 

 

“And you’d be willing to complete these tasks just to save me?” 

 

The thought hadn’t occurred to Edward before, but he was happy with his new companion. The few hours they’d been together had been a series of twists and turns, intrigue after intrigue, it was thrilling in a way his work back home never was. It would be an adventure, and surely they could find friendship easier when one of them was no longer an enchanted creature. 

 

“Consider it done, my feathered friend.” 

 

“How excellent!”

 

The raven flew high from his perch on Edward’s finger, swooped and twirled through the treetops. From his broad, feathered chest he bellowed three squawks, each echoing farther and farther across the woods. Edward smiled at the sight and found he wished even harder to save his new friend from this curse, to know what the mysterious nobleman was really like. 

 

He finally landed after several minutes, back again on Edward’s finger. 

 

“Tell me, what is your name?” 

 

A calculating look overtook Edward’s face. 

 

“What’s at the beginning eternity, the end of time and space, and the middle of yesterday but nowhere in tomorrow?” 

 

The raven cocked his head, a disappointed huff in his breath.

 

“You know, when you’re asked a question the polite thing to do is answer.”

 

Edward looked thoroughly scorned. 

 

“Edward--Nygma. I would say most of the village calls me Ed, but the real names they call me don’t bear repeating.” 

 

“Edward,” the raven repeated, “I like that, it suits you.” 

 

He laughed, jostling the raven on his perch.   
  


“I suppose that’s good, I’m afraid what might happen if you didn’t think so.” 

 

“What, afraid I might get an evil sorceress to turn  _ you _ into some pitiful creature?” 

 

“I’m rather pitiful on my own, thank you very much.”   
  
Edward realized too late how unintentionally tragic his jest sounded. The raven picked at a piece of fluff on his perch’s sleeve, uncomfortable silence hung heavy in the air. 

 

He tried to regain lost ground, “What did they call you before you were--changed?” 

 

The raven looked sad for a moment, seemed to recall past days of his human life, once carefree as he had been moments ago frolicking among the wood’s thick canopy. 

 

“Oswald Cobblepot, that’s my name.” 

 

Edward tried the name on for size and smiled at the forlorn creature. 

 

“I like that, it suits you.” 

 

The raven named Oswald ruffled his feathers, fluffed up at the neck like he might be trying to hide. Edward soothed the downy armor, his touch gentle and reassuring. Nobody had tried to comfort him in so long, his mother’s touch turned to a haunting ghost in his memory since that fateful day with Mistress Mooney. 

  
  


When Edward learned of the trials to free Oswald, a nagging doubt seemed to tug his sleeve at every turn.

 

“Is that clear?”   
  


“As crystal in a coal mine.” 

 

“This is serious, Edward.”

 

“Of course--but you have to understand, as a man of science, I am loathe to believe the tales of a witch with such abilities living deep in the forest.”

 

“Really? The man talking to an enchanted raven is going to choose now as the time to throw stones.” 

 

Edward opened his mouth, debate on his lips but the tone of Oswald’s voice told him otherwise. 

 

“Fair point.” 

 

“As I was saying,” Oswald continued, “refuse all of her offers--meal or drink, you mustn’t touch anything she gives you or it will send you into a deep sleep and all hope will be lost for me. I’m afraid you must go alone, but I will be by with a carriage in three days to see if you’ve done what I’ve said.”

 

“I won’t let you down, dear raven. You can count on me.” 

 

Edward soon stole off to the witch’s hut, finding some difficulty in navigating without his companion to guide him. The house he found was covered in thick vines that seemed to start from nowhere and end just the same, it was a botanical beauty to behold. Edward observed exactly eight different types of fascinating flora before even reaching the door. 

 

He knocked carefully, minding the leaves that twisted and writhed over the wood. A young woman stood in the doorway, her face full of mismatched emotions. Severity and kindness, mischief and warmth--her expression couldn’t seem to choose, or was willing to adapt like the plant life that surrounded her. 

 

“Hello, darling.”

 

Her voice sang in Edward’s ears, a sudden smell of something sweet clouded his nose. He noted that she was not the kind of witch he’d been warned of in his youth, the ones with crooked noses and slinking black cats at their feet. She shined with radiant beauty, her impossibly red hair swayed delicately around her face. The very air that surrounded her seemed to dance and curl, everything tried to get closer to the witch, her incandescence was contagious. 

 

Edward stepped back from the thick cloud of bliss, remembering the words Oswald told him. 

 

“Hello, I’m sorry to bother you but I’ve been traveling for quite some time and I’m afraid I need a place to rest before I continue.” 

 

The witch smiled, “Of course, come in and rest your weary legs. I will set out a loaf of bread and cheese.” 

 

“No!” Edward blanched, “I mean--no, thank you. That is very kind but I’m not hungry.”

 

The witch’s face faltered, a thin trace of malice threaded in her brow. 

 

“Perhaps wine then?” 

 

Edward sat himself at the witch’s table, his throat becoming quite dry in an instant. He thought a single sip of wine surely wouldn’t hurt, and then he would retire to wait for Oswald’s arrival. 

 

The wine was sweet, a bite of bitter at the end of his tongue that quenched Edward’s thirst with a single sip. He quickly thanked the witch for her kindness and settled in the spare room, finding himself overtaken with an incredible wave of fatigue. Before he could even think of Oswald’s warning, Edward was fast asleep from the wine he had so foolishly accepted. 

 

By morning, Oswald arrived at the witch’s cottage, greatly saddened by the sight that met him at the window. Edward was slumbering deep, his breath steady but his eyes not giving so much as a twitch when the raven tap, tap, tapped against the glass. Each day the raven flew in to see if Edward would wake, but when the third day arrived his companion was still fast asleep. 

 

The bird pushed the window pane open, gently setting a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a block of cheese at Edward’s side. All his provisions would never empty, enchanted with a spell that made them inexhaustible. Before flying back to his lonely home, Oswald placed a golden ring on Edward’s finger, tied to it a note that detailed another chance to save the creature from his feathered prison. Nearly tethered by a heavy heart, the raven left the witch’s house. 

 

When Edward awoke to see the bread and cheese at his side, he knew what wrong he had done. 

 

“I drank the witch’s wine, I’ve doomed Oswald to spend his life as a pitiful bird.” 

  
Edward cried and cried, sorry for his friend and the promise he broke. When he brought a hand up to wipe fallen tears, he noticed a gold band around his finger with a note attached. 

 

_ Perhaps not all hope is lost. _

_ Onward you go, but be wary the cost. _

_ You will find me at castle Falcone _

_ So onward to the giant’s home.   _

_ There he has a map to see _

_ And only then, might you deliver me.  _

 

_ -O.C _

 

Edward sprang from his mourning bed, dashing past the witch and her ivy covered walls before she might have captured him. His legs carried him fast and far into the woods, until the sun glowed orange and night threatened to fall. When Edward finally stopped to rest, he found himself at the doorstep of an incredible home, his arm hardly long enough to reach the door handle. He knocked twice, but there was no answer. Sure that it must be the giant’s home from Oswald’s note, Edward carried on with a cautious step. 

 

“Hello?”

 

Silence. 

 

“Is anyone h--”

 

Before Edward could utter another word, a booming voice echoed through the vast halls.

 

**“WHO DARES TO TRESPASS IN MY HOME?”**

 

Dishes rattled, window panes shook, Edward’s own knees shook with fear when he saw the creature approach. A giant thing, with scaled skin and jagged teeth that pushed past sneering lips. Its hands looked more like claws than anything that might belong to a human. Edward cowered against the door, flinching anytime the beast stepped closer. He felt the weight of the ring on his finger, remembering the promise to Oswald that he’d broken once already. 

 

Wary determination welled in Edward’s throat as he spoke. 

 

“My--my name is Edward Nygma, I am looking for a way to King Falcone’s castle.” 

 

The monster’s laugh shook the house’s mighty foundation the same as his roaring voice. 

 

“ **SILLY LITTLE MAN, I SHOULD GRIND YOUR BONES AND EAT YOU FOR LUNCH.”**

 

Thinking quickly, Edward remembered the provisions left by Oswald. 

 

“I’m always there, but you’ll never find me--my reach is known both well and not at all. What am I?” 

 

The giant looked perplexed, his reptilian face contorted in thought. His frustration grew heavy with the passing seconds and left Edward to wonder if he’d made yet another wrong decision. 

 

**“I DO NOT LIKE YOUR SILLY WORD PLAY.”**

 

“So do you give up?” 

 

The monster crossed his arms over a broad, hulking chest. 

 

“Eternity, the answer is eternity. You see,” Edward pulled the magical foods from his pack, “these are endless. You can slice the bread and drink the wine, but they will never run out.” 

 

The beast seemed to consider Edward’s offer worthwhile and stomped his mighty legs over to snatch the items from him. Sat at the largest diner table Edward had ever seen, he and the creature shared endless slices of bread and cheese between them. 

 

**“YOU SAY YOU NEED TO FIND KING FALCONE’S CASTLE.”**

 

“Yes, it is of the utmost importance that I do.” 

 

The monster nodded, stomped to the corner of his large dining room to a desk with papers scattered this way and that. He gathered a roll and placed it between himself and Edward, one large claw tracing the thin line of a path through the woods.

 

**“HERE YOU FIND THE PATH, FOLLOW IT TO DARK KNIGHT’S ROCK AND AT THE TOP YOU WILL FIND FALCONE’S CASTLE.”**

 

Edward pictured the map in his mind, certain he could never forget the way that would lead him to Oswald’s rescue. As he gathered his things and headed for the last of his journey, a thought occurred to Edward. 

 

“Before I go, since you have been such interesting company, what is your name?”

 

The beast smiled for the first time, one large hand clapped on Edward’s shoulder that nearly brought him tumbling to the ground. 

 

**“JONES, WAYLON JONES.”**


	2. Chapter 2

Edward found himself at the foot of Dark Knight’s rock. Gotham’s tallest cliff where razor sharp crags and deadly drops stood to deter even the bravest of hearts. 

 

“Oh,  _ dear _ ,” he muttered under his breath. 

 

Defeat drifted heavy in the air, helpless and hopeless thought flooded Edward’s lungs. He sank to his feat, rubbing desperately at his eyes to keep clouding tears at bay. 

 

“You look pretty lost.” 

 

Edward looked up to the mop of curls that framed the face of a young girl who stood over him. Words died on his tongue in fear that his sobs might start and never stop if he spoke.

 

“Do you speak, or do you usually just sit there with wide eyes and a stupid look on your face?” 

 

Edward shook his head.

 

“No, you don’t speak or no, you don’t usually sit there with a stupid look on your face?” 

 

He rose to his feet in a cloud of indigence. 

 

“I can speak perfectly fine, I was just disagreeing with _ both _ of those ridiculous questions,” Edward huffed. 

 

The girl laughed, “Sure, whatever you say. What are you doing out here anyways?” 

 

“I should ask you the same thing.” 

 

“Me?” she pointed to the top of Dark Knight’s Rock, “just practicing.” 

 

Edward followed the long line of the cliff’s face, feeling dizzy just from looking up. 

 

“You’re telling me you actually  _ climb  _ this impossible thing?”

 

“That’s right, and you won’t find someone better, believe me--I beat them all.”

 

She flashed a cunning grin and lept onto a steep rock to prove her point, keeping herself crouched low. A clever idea occurred to Edward. 

 

“Tell me, if you know a way up the mountain, surely you can lead someone else up as well.” 

 

The girl made a twisted face.

 

“As if. I am the only one who goes up or down this way, Falcone’s orders.” 

 

“Right, of course. You are King Falcone’s loyal servant, I see. My apologies, I just assumed you called the shots.” 

 

Edward turned his back on the young girl and feigned disinterest, her fuming burned through the misty air.

 

“Hey, nobody tells me what to do.” 

 

A mocking innocence played over Edward’s face. 

 

“Oh but you said it yourself, nobody up or down, ‘Falcone’s orders’.” 

 

“Ya well, I don’t need some rotten old King to tell me what I should do, you got that?” 

 

Her sharp finger dug into Edward’s chest. 

 

“I’m sure.” 

 

The girl’s shoulders rose up to her ears, red from the anger that shook her slight frame. She stomped back to the cliff’s base, not bothering to look behind her. 

 

“Follow exactly where I step, if you fall I’m not scraping your sorry butt off the ground.” 

 

Edward didn’t stop his splitting grin, so amused by how quickly he had gotten his way. The ring on his finger felt warm, a reminder to Edward why he’d come so far. Oswald was waiting to be freed at the top of this final perilous leg of his journey, and Edward would sooner cast himself off Dark Knight’s Rock than let his bird down one more time. 

 

When they finally reached the top, Edward looked down at his bleeding hands, sickened by how scraped and split they’d become from the sharp rocks on his dizzying climb. Blood stained the once white cuffs of his shirt, the warmth seeping farther down his sleeve and staining whatever it touched. 

 

“Tough break, should have covered up.” 

 

Edward shot a poisonous glare at the girl.

 

“You didn’t bother to say anything.” 

 

“Not my job to look after first timers.” 

 

“No matter, I can wrap them myself. I suppose I should thank you for getting me here in  _ mostly _ one piece, Ms.--”

 

“Selina Kyle. Friends call me cat.” 

 

“Right. Well thank you Ms. Kyle, you’ve done more than you know.”

 

“Don’t mention it.”   
  
Edward nodded, already turned to continue on towards Falcone’s castle when he felt the bite of a blade at his throat.

 

“I mean it, if you tell anyone I let you up here you’re dead.” 

 

“You have my word.” 

 

Selina and the blade at his throat disappeared with the wind, leaving Edward all alone on his journey to Falcone’s castle. The cobblestone crunched under his feet, Waylon’s booming threat only days before still at the back of his mind. Edward decided he would never tell Oswald what he’d gone through to free him, certain it would only cause him heartache and guilt even though Edward would do it again and again if he could always save the curious raven. 

 

King Falcone’s castle stood cold in stone against a black sky, clouds swirling and threatening to open up over the dreary landscape. Electric air signaled lightening and the boom of thunder close behind. Edward tucked still bleeding hands into his waistcoat for the weak warmth it offered. More than free Oswald from Mistress Mooney’s enchantment, Edward swore then to take him away from such desperate desolation. 

 

Upon reaching the castle, Edward snuck up to a window to peer in on the King’s throne room. Falcone himself sat grimly on his chair, a hand tucked up under his chin while some poor soul begged on his knees at the King’s feet. Edward’s eyes fell on a golden cage that sat behind the throne, a single weary raven perched in the corner. His wings were sloped, a hopeless tangle of feathers that pained Edward’s heart. A key hung teasingly next to the bars of the cage, just out of Oswald’s reach. Anger built in Edward’s stomach, from low hum into roaring fire. To keep such a beautiful creature caged and tease him with freedom, the very idea seared Edward’s chest. 

 

Before he could think about what to do next, Edward found himself knocking on the large wooden doors of Falcone’s castle. Astute guards stood on either side, ushering him in front of the King.

 

“Speak.”

 

“I wish to ask for your help, my lord,” the words tumbled from Edward’s lips as if someone else were giving the command. 

 

He outstretched bloody hands toward the throne. 

 

“I’m sure you see I’ve been badly injured, but I cannot afford the proper care.” 

 

Falcone looked less than pleased at oxidizing blood being dripped onto his floors. 

 

“I don’t see why I should care about some beggar’s plight--guards, take this  _ thing  _ out of my throne room.” 

 

The guards stood on either side of Edward. 

 

“One more question, my lord.” 

 

Falcone rolled his tired eyes, slumped further in his chair. 

 

“Fine, proceed.” 

 

“I’ll know you before you know me, and by then it’s much too late. You can plan me or you can spoil me, but either way it’s fate. What am I?” 

 

The King rose from his throne, his face red and chest heaving with angered breath. 

 

“Guards,” he shouted, “take this ridiculous man out of my sight.” 

 

Edward kept low, hardly looking up at the King or his men. 

 

“Now my lord, you’re not playing correctly. The answer is of course--”

 

A sweep of his leg brought one guard down long enough for Edward to grab the dagger at the man’s hip and plunge it deep into his thigh. Enough of a wound to keep him alive, but for hardly longer than a few minutes. Edward brought the blade more fatally into the other guard’s chest, hearing the snap of a breastbone echo through the throne room’s stone walls. He faced the King, whose pallor had gone ghostly white. 

 

“Surprise.” 

 

Edward stalked towards the frozen Falcone, breath hissing between clenched teeth, the blood on his hands a fair mixture of his own now dried and some newly wet. He could taste it on his own lips, metallic and bitter. He spit down at the King’s feet. 

 

“Now, I believe you have something that belongs to me.” 

 

The King backed up against his throne, hand searching stupidly for some concealed weapon. Edward tsked and brought the whetted blade up to his neck.

 

“That is a very  _ stupid _ thing to try, my lord. In fact, you might easily escape with your life if you just sit still.” 

 

Falcone sat obedient in his throne, hands visible on either side of the orante arms they rested on. Edward turned his attention to the gilded cage, pointedly keeping himself facing the King. He tore down the key and unlocked the small door, offering a hand for the raven to perch on as he’d done so many times before. 

 

Only this time, the raven simply stared back with glassy eyes. 

 

“Oswald you’re free, you don’t have to be afraid.” 

 

The raven ruffled his feathers, flapping his wings three times with a screeching caw. 

 

_ “Nothingmore.”  _

 

Edward’s heart filled with lead. 

 

“No--no, Oswald please this isn’t funny. I’m here to free you, just like I promised.” 

 

_ “Nothingmore.”  _

 

“I’m wearing the ring, see. It has your name on it, you placed it there at the witch’s cottage, I know you did.” 

 

Edward tried to reach out and soothe the raven’s feathers but the creature only moved away, flapping its frightened wings three more times. 

 

“Oswald?”

 

He sank to his knees with a whimper, giving no thought to Falcone still sitting on his throne. Edward felt the hot tears from the witch’s cottage, from the fear of nearly losing his life at Waylon’s hands, of getting so close and nearly failing to come so far if it weren’t for Selena. He cried and cried, and didn’t stop. He mourned the loss of Oswald, the only one who’d ever been kind to him, who trusted Edward to grant his freedom. 

 

“Oswald, I am so sorry. I only wanted to free you from that curse, so I might know you as more than just some silly bird.” 

 

Edward dug the heel of his hands harder into his eyes, wishing the entire world away in one moment. 

 

“Who are you calling ‘silly bird’?” 

 

His breath caught in his throat, he refused to remove his hands in fear that nothing had really changed, only his mind was playing cruel games. A gentle hand placed itself on Edward’s cheek. 

 

“You only wanted me, nothingmore.” 

 

Finally, Edward moved his hands away from blurry eyes to see a man standing over him. Pale skin flushed with freckles, green eyes brimmed with emotion, and a feathering of dark hair stuck out in every direction. Edward rushed up from his knees, holding tight and feeling the world under his palms; heat and skin, muscle and silk. 

 

He buried his face against Oswald’s shoulder, spinning him round and round until both men were impossibly dizzy. Before he couldn’t keep the tears from flowing, now Edward could hardly contain his mad laughter. Oswald held tight to him, his smile pouring warmth over every inch of him that Edward could see. 

 

“Impossible--absolutely impossible.” 

 

“Really Edward, I thought we talked about throwing stones.” 

 

Oswald’s voice was filled with every ounce of kindness Edward had been robbed of his entire life. A new world was contained just within the scope of his words. Before he was ready to part with the comfort of Oswald’s embrace, Edward remembered the prisoner King he left unattended, finding it odd the man hadn’t tried to attack them while their guard was down. 

 

Edward pulled Oswald defensively behind himself and looked to where the King sat. 

 

“Oh,  _ dear _ .” 

 

King Falcone was slumped forward in his throne, the shining dagger Edward had used before now stuck proudly in his back.

 

“Oh yes, while you were preoccupied with that touching speech, I took the matter of safety into my own hands-- or wings, as it were.” 

 

Oswald faced Edward, keeping their fingers laced tightly together. 

 

“Those were beautiful words, Edward.” 

 

“I--well, I wasn’t entirely sure you were going to hear it.” 

 

“But you don’t regret that I did?”

 

“I wouldn’t  _ dare _ regret it. In fact,” Edward paused, more quiet than before, “I wasn’t entirely finished.” 

 

The tips of his ears were ablaze in abashed embarrassment. Oswald was unrelenting, he stepped closer. 

 

“You weren’t?”

 

Edward forced himself to look at Oswald’s knowing face.

 

“The floor is yours, Edward.” 

 

He steeled himself with a deep breath.

 

“I said I wanted to know you as more than just some silly bird--I mean I want to know you in every way possible, Oswald. However you let me, in whatever way it means to you, that’s what I want.” 

 

Oswald’s eyes were a shimmer of tears, his lithe arms wrapped around Edward’s neck. He kept one hand tangled in Oswald’s coat, holding tight so he might never let such a beautiful creature fly away again, the other lain gently on his cheek. Their foreheads rested comfortably against each other, shared breath coming easy and warm between them. Oswald nodded softly and placing one hand over Edward’s, he traced the ring that bore his name. He spoke quietly so only they two would hear his words. 

 

“You have me, Edward. In every way.” 

**Author's Note:**

> are we tired of me yet? for the fairy tale day I had almost no ideas and then out of nowhere the idea to create a mashup of edgar allen poe's The Raven and brothers grimm The Raven and they weirdly worked quite well together though I don't think mr. allen poe would have run off into the woods with his raven 
> 
> enjoy! <3


End file.
